Breathe
by AliceEnchanted
Summary: She is like the sunlight of spring, and in the summer, she shines even brighter; it's autumn when I first saw her cry under the drifting petals of her namesake, and in the winter, she fades away out of my reach. She is Sakura Haruno, a girl I met in March She's four months older than me and she is in love with my brother. She's the girl who stole my heart.


**呼 吸 す る**

kokyū suru

* * *

_She is like the sunlight of spring, and in the summer, she shines even brighter; it's autumn when I first saw her cry under the drifting petals of her namesake, and in the winter, she fades away out of my reach. She is Sakura Haruno, a girl I met in March She's four months older than me and she is in love with my brother. She's the girl who stole my heart._

Sixteen-year-old soccer star Sasuke Uchiha has always wanted only one thing: to be recongnized by his father. So he desperately sets his mind on winning the regionals and taking the train to Tokyo for the nationals. But after a grave injury turns his world upside down, he loses everything he has worked hard for, along with a half of himself and another reason to live. A few months into striving away from the pitch and spot lights, just right when he was ready to give up on everything, he crosses paths with Sakura Haruno, a girl who leaves him with a red handprint on his cheek and a new purpose in life.

As Sakura introduces him to a new boulevard, Sasuke learns that taking risk is a part of life and that even the biggest tragedy can sprout the biggest hope.

* * *

**Prologue**

, , ,

To him, it unfolded like a movie not different from thousand other movies he had seen, but the kind of which would remain in him forever...

. . .

The early dawn that greeted everyone who has gathered at the Leaf Empire Stadium to watch the Regional Soccer Meet was dull – the stars that blanketed the sky the night before has shied away from the brightening horizon, and the clouds that hung lazily above promised a heavy rain – and the air was damp and was not a bit light on the lungs. The moon's pale silhouette has slowly blended into the monochromic background that served its company, while the ablowing autumn breeze lackadaisically cradled the fallen leaves that blanketed the ground and combed the treetops with their wintry fingers. Had it not been for the gloomy overcast, it would have painted a beautiful sight, really: what with the cherry blossoms raining around in a flurry of their rosy glory, floating down the earth like feathers as if an angel had graced the little village and the wind smelling like thousands of fragrant flowers.

If only that was the same scene inside the stadium.

The bright lights overhead glared down on the dewy field, making the edges of the grass – some bent underneath the players' feet; some stood almost mockingly to their tips. But there was particularly nothing that screamed spectacular about the green blades that stretched from one goal to another right now, and he could have cared less about the countless times they have been there, practising from sunrise to sunset, sometimes past their usual schedule until their feet could carry them no more, for this day – covering the whole pitch sharper than they looked, even with the high shadows casted upon them. The cold mid-November air hung into the nervousness that settled upon the arena, and everyone's breath came out of their mouth in faint white fumes, dissolving with the thin fog that was slowly descending on the grounds. The first rays of the sun was breaking through the scattered clouds, but it was not the jovial yellow that usually felt warm on the skin, rather it looked like it had been washed off and blurred around the edges. Like a photo on vignette.

Victory seemed like such a long way off.

It was the final game of the season and Sasuke Uchiha, Konoha 11's team captain and best midfielder, wanted nothing more than to bag their only ticket to the nationals in Tokyo. To some, it would seem to them as just another game, but to those who had stood by their team throughout their journey, it was the big break they've all been waiting for. Konoha 11 has never lost a game, and they wouldn't now especially when the half-time score was on tie, and the remaining two minutes of the game felt like a suffocating blanket of perfume mixing with the cold sweat that had clung on his body like a second skin. He was already panting heavily as he dribbled the ball to the goal, but the chorus of the arena was ringing heavily on his ears and he could not focus for a moment, too busy trying to drown them out. Being on the verge of panic was highly unlikely of him, but having his exhaustion finally caught up on him , he almost stumbled and thought it was that time the ball was supposed to swerve off the path he could only see, but it didn't; though he didn't have the time to feel grateful for it. He drew one, long breathe as he thought of his next move; their coach has adviced them to stick with the plan, but their opponents has shown an annoying habit of countering them, sloppy as they were, since the start of the game.

Instead, he decided to conspire with Shikamaru Nara, their resident genius, to strategize in the middle of the game and see what they could have done and if it would have done them better. It was a lot of challenge, of course, especially since they had to go against time and communicating through hand signs while moving constantly was not the most efficient mean, though the other dark-haired teen did not live up to his title for no reason. They just had to pull it off. He could already imagine vividly the horrified look of their coach from his seat on the benches, with his lone visible eye wide from shock and masked mouth agape from astonishment, and the thought alone was almost the worth of the golden glimmer of the trophy that awaited them. A smirk made its way to his lips. On the corner of his eyes, he can see Shikamaru flashing him hand signs – the movement of his fingers fast and almost blurry – as he matched his pace in a dummy run, which left the offensive open. It was a rookie move, and even he could not believe that a worthy opponent would fall for it; but then again, the defense has easily regained possession of the ball not even five minutes into the first half.

'There,' he thought to himself, narrowing his eyes in concentration as he exchanged a give-and-go with another teammate – where he ignored the minute dissolving to seconds as he ran past the stunned defender – before bending the ball. He exhaled the breath he didn't know he had been holding as the ball flew in the air, his eyes wide and his lips parted slightly. Time seemed to slow down as his gaze locked very briefly with their opponent's keeper's, who was as equally stunned as he was, and the ball sailed right in the center of the goal.

The black and white sphere spinned in the cradle of the net as a blaring sound reverberated around the whole stadium. His mouth felt dry, like a sand paper, and his chest tight; he couldn't tell if it was because of the running or not. The raven-haired teenager stood breathless and still as his team mates began swarming around him, some giving him congratulatory pats on the shoulder; some a triumphant grin. He paid no attention to the roar of the crowd and to the rain of confetti and streamers that filled the air; he was yet to come out of his shock to even register the pain that gathered on his left foot and the numbness that crept up on the same leg as he subconsciously maneuvered out of the crowd that gathered to congratulate them and towards the shower stalls, at the same time ignoring the confused looks his friends sent his way.

As he did, his eyes were met by an identical pair and what he saw tightened the cord around his throat. He walked away, his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists. The unmistakable frown on his father's face stood out rather painfully among the smiles surrounding him..

. . .

The hallways felt emptier with the silence that accompanied them, and the locker room which was usually bustling with the members of their soccer league seemed like an abandoned secret base mocking his presence. He did not know how long he stood there – drenched in sweat and numbed to the bones – staring at the banner that stretched from one wall to another. He remembered the first time his best friend showed them the stupid cloth he had hastily sewn with the letters of their team name. Any other time, it would have brought a smile on his lips just by thinking about the blond's contagious smile and the words he never expected to leave an impression on him.

_'We are a team now, teme!' Naruto exclaimed, waving his arms around as if to emphasize his point. 'Either you have to bear with me or force me to quit, and you can't make me give up easily so you just have to accept this knucklehead!' Sasuke didn't know which made him want to smack Naruto, but the corner of his lips twitched upwards when his best friend just insulted himself. He couldn't even tell if he intended to do so, or if it just slipped his tongue without him even knowing. 'Believe it, I'm going to be the best attacker Konoha 11 has ever seen!'_

But now the mere sight of it left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. Sasuke balled his hands into a fist and punched the wall in frustration: the slight cracking sound that followed his knuckles' landing on the rough surface brought a snarl on his lips and left him almost satisfied for the shock of pain that traveled up to his arm. _Almost._ 'Damn you, Naruto.'

He wanted to be away from everything that reminded him sorely of the blond. He continued to seethe for a while, all the while swallowing the urge to scream loudly. On the corner of his eyes, he saw something glint under the glow of flourescent lights. He walks toward the small shelf pressed against a wall, his face morphing to something entirely unreadable. His hands shakily traced the plaque standing in the center of other trophies they have earned from various sports meets. The shiny engraving of his name under the bold **Most Valuable Player 2018 **gripped his heart and for a moment, hurt flashed behind his eyes, making him wamt to tear them off their sockets. MVP – he has always been the team's best player since it began, but now, his best friend has stripped the title off him in just a miraculous feat. His hands tightened around the plate, and as his knuckes turned bony white with the cold glass fueling his anger, he thought of smashing it down the floor.

Perhaps, the broken pieces of it would mend something he could not name inside of him; or maybe it would make a good slap of reality on his father, or maybe it would make Naruto a bit guilty for pulling off such an act earlier. Maybe he could tear down the banner as well, that would have certainly made a bigger picture than a shattered trophy. A humorless laugh escaped his lips, and for the first time, he didn't stop the tears that blurred his vision. His chest constricted as he took a large gulp of air; he felt like suffocating in the only place that felt home to him.

The muffles chatter of his teammates from the hallway pulled him off his musings, and he quickly blinked away the salty water in his eyes. He greeted them with a blank gaze as the door opened with a loud bang, from which he didn't wince the slightest even when the impact almost made the heavy metal fly off its hinges, and they entered one by one, their lively exclamations reverberating painfully against his ears. "Teme! Did you see–"

Oh, he did. And it was the biggest insult he has received in his lifetime; it felt worse than his father's constant praise of his first-born son and blatant indifference to his youngest.

"S-sasuke?" Naruto subconsciously took a step back after seeing the bitter scowl on his best friend's face as their eyes met, the latter's usually indifferent ones now filled with malice the blond didn't know he was able to give him. He preffered them blank rather than cold with fury. Behind him, Shikamaru stood with a knowing look in his own eyes, but as Sasuke's drifted from each face to another, he knew that no one knew exactly what's going on inside him no matter how hard they try.

"Uchiha!" Kiba barged into the room with a bursting energy that would certainly put their gym instructor, Maito Gai, into shame. He moved around with lively springy steps that no one would have thought he just came from a draining game, completely oblivious to the heavy tension that enveloped the room. He began to babble about the game and how amazing Naruto was for the save he made, and Sasuke decided to tune him off instead of punching him straight in the face even when he was itching to do just that.

He looked at their coach – who had been silently watching the scene unfold in the corner, saying nothing, but Sasuke knew the silver-haired man would later approach him to talk about the matter – before turning around and walking out of the room. "I'm going to take a shower," he told no one in particular in a dismissive tone, and because his back was facing his silent teammates, save for the hyper Inuzuka, he failed to see the dejected look in Naruto's usually bright eyes.

* * *

The cold November air nipped on her pale skin, but if it brought a color on others', it only made hers look more papery white in bad contrast to her off-white hospital gown. The thin material absorbed the wintry breeze like paper on water, and she scolded herself for not bringing something warmer with her, but the cold feeling made her feel more alive than ever, like she was finally breathing after being confined inside the four corners of white prison she called room.

She was sitting on a bench outside the hospital's rooftops, with only the winter peonies to serve her company. The bursting colors of the blooms on the flower boxes brought her a little semblance of hope she seemed to have lost a long time ago. A paper was clutched in her hands, she had not let it go since she got it earlier this morning. For years, she had looked for him everywhere she went, only her condition had took her nowhere farther from the neighboring villages of her own. She debated herself whether he knew her or not, but that wasn't the most important thing right now. Sure, it didn't stop bothering her since she learned of him – her only hope, and she has always been hellbent on finding him in hopes that he too, was looking for her. Although she soon realized, and considered the idea of him being ignorant to the truth. His parents may not have even told him the truth.

A fleeting smile touched her lips as he brought the paper to her chest.

"Sakura," the stern voice of her mother called out from behind, and she turned to look at her over her shoulders, pink hair gently swaying with the breeze, green eyes shining with the last strands of strength inside her. Her mother's features softened when she caught sight of the paper peeking from her daughter's delicate frame, and a sigh escaped her lips as she removes scarf off her neck. "How many times have I told you to bring a coat with you when you go up here?"

"Countless," the teen joked as she patted the empty spot beside her. "Care to join me? Or you could go back in, it's going to start snowing soon." A smile pulled on Mebuki's lips as she walked towards her daughter. She carefully wrapped the scarf around Sakura's neck before sitting down on her side. The sixteen-year-old pulled the warm cloth to her nose, inhaling her mother's familiar scent, which was already engraved in her memory.

"I should be the one telling you that," she answered. They shared a smile for a moment, before the teen's eyes dropped down to paper that was now sitting on her lap. She looked uncertain, and her mother watched as a number of emotions flashed on her face. "A ryo for your thoughts?"

Sakura took a deep breath, exhaling the air through her lips and facing her mother. For a moment, Mebuki was taken aback from the look on her daughter's eyes. All her life, she has always been full of hope and happiness, and not once the woman had seen the girl breakdown even when she's faced with the most challenging circumstances. Right now, however, she had been the front-row witness to the death of life in those eyes that resembled the color of srping. "What if he doesn't accept me?"

The red-haired woman knew who she was talking about without asking, but even after years of experience, she did not know how to answer that. She was silent for the longest while, her eyes searching her daughter's for anything other than the hopelessness the possibility she presented brought. Mebuki didn't even think about it, because she has always been positive of the outcome; she thought it would be easy, thought it would be done as quickly as possible, that after years of searching, Sakura wouldn't be at risk anymore. But now, those hopes came crashing down from the weight of a simple question. "I'd still be fine, right? Shishou said I'd recover eventually, so there's still a plenty of time, and maybe then it wouldn't matter if he accets us or not, I just wanted to know him."

She choked on a sob as she pulled the pinkette to her chest in a hug; her daughter felt more fragile in her arms than her beloved china collection, and she feared that embracing her tighter might break her. "Hahaue?" Confused on her mother's sudden emotional state, Sakura returned the hug and buried her face on the crook between her neck and shoulders, a smile touching her lips as she did. "I'll be fine. Shishou said so and she's the best doctor around. We just have to trust her," she told her softly, rubbing soothing circles on her mothers back, a small smile on her face.

Mebuki couldn't bring herself to answer, not because her throat was itchy from crying, but because the truth was written on the legal papers she had crumpled and thrown in the bottom of the trash bin on the bathroom inside Sakura's private ward.

Never to be seen again.


End file.
